


First Time Unlucky

by Aramley



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-18
Updated: 2009-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramley/pseuds/Aramley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It's okay,</i> Roger told himself a little later, sitting up and awake in his hotel room even though it was going to cost at practice tomorrow, <i>people have bad sex all the time. It doesn't mean anything</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time Unlucky

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://aramleys-words.livejournal.com/5343.html).

"So," said Roger. "I. Uh. Should."

"Yeah," said Rafa. "Okay. For sure."

"Okay." Roger shuffled awkwardly to the edge of the bed, keeping the bedsheet up around his waist as he went. His underwear lay on top of the pile of his discarded clothes next to the bed and he reached down for them. When he turned back to glance at Rafa, Rafa was already looking away, giving Roger the privacy to dress, as if they hadn't just - well. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Roger ran a hand through his hair, damp with a little sweat at the temples.

"Can I use your -?"

"Oh, sure. Yes." Rafa smiled a little, slightly strained.

"Okay. Thanks." In the bathroom, Roger let the shower run scalding hot over him, eyes closed, as if he could keep the gnawing sense of embarrassment and the uneasy disappointment down in the darkness behind his eyes.

When he got out of the bathroom Rafa was already dressed, sitting up on the bed against the headboard, feet bare and crossed at the ankles. The TV was on and showing some football game, but Rafa turned the sound down as soon as Roger came into the room. The muted sounds of the game only seemed to accentuate the silence stretching out between them. Rafa smiled at Roger. Roger smiled back, wondering what the odds were on the ground opening up and swallowing him anytime soon.

"I should maybe," Roger started, and then, "I have practice tomorrow, you know. I should go."

"Oh. Okay," said Rafa. He got up, standing awkwardly next to the bed, and tucked his hair back behind his ears, a nervous-looking gesture.

"Okay."

Rafa walked him to the door, standing close.

"That was - nice," Rafa said. He was shuffling from one foot to the other, and he kept shooting quick looks at Roger's mouth. They were standing too close to be friendly, close enough that Roger could smell Rafa, the sweat and the lingering scent of sex, but far enough apart that one of them would have to move in order for something to _happen_ \- a kiss, something, God, _anything_. Neither of them moved. Rafa smiled again, that tight level smile. Roger returned it.

"So I'll, uh, see you soon, yeah?"

"Oh, for sure," said Rafa, nodding. "Okay. So." He leaned in suddenly with a quick movement that caught Roger off guard, and maybe he'd been aiming for Roger's mouth but Roger's sharp answering movement caught him off-balance so that his lips ended up somewhere closer to Roger's left nostril, and Roger's mouth caught the edge of Rafa's chin in what was almost certainly the worst kiss ever shared by two people. When Rafa pulled back his cheeks were flushed bright red. Roger sort of wanted to die.

-

 _It's okay_ , Roger told himself a little later, sitting up and awake in his hotel room even though it was going to cost at practice tomorrow, _people have bad sex all the time. It doesn't mean anything_. Of course they did, and of course it didn't. His phone was balanced on the arm of the chair, and he kept looking down at it obsessively, reaching out for it and then putting it back down. He should call. He should text. He shouldn't. Should he? He resolved, finally, not to do anything about it when the phone buzzed across the fabric, startling him. A text message, from Rafa: _that was very bad :)_

Roger smiled, relieved laughter rising in his chest. He thumbed back: _it really was_

 _Well_ , read Rafa's answering text, a few moments later, _practice makes perfect? what are you doing tomorrow evening? ;)_

Roger laughed, thought for a moment, and wrote back, _you xxx_


End file.
